Unexpected Art Serendipitous Installations, Site-Specific Works, and Surprising Interventions (about “Pile of Wishes”) Edited by Jenny Moussa Spring, Preface by Florentijin Hofman, Introduction by Christian L. Frock, Preface by Florentijn Hofman Cronical Books, San Francisco, March 2015 ISBN 9781452135489www.chroniclebooks.com/titles/unexpected-art.html Graffiti made from cake icing, man-made clouds floating indoors, a luminous moon resting on water. Collected here are dozens of jaw-dropping artworks—site-specific installations, extraordinary sculptures, and groundbreaking interventions in public spaces—that reveal the exciting things that happen when contemporary artists play with the idea of place. Unexpected Art showcases the wonderfully experimental work of more than 50 innovative artists from around the world in galleries of their most astonishing artworks. An unusual package with three different-colored page edges complements the art inside and makes this tour of the world's most mind-blowing artwork a beautiful and thoughtprovoking gift for anyone interested in the next cool thing.

Landscape Installation Art (Chinese /English) “Open Space — Agravity” (about "Passage") “Contradiction — Fear of the Unknown” (about “Schleudersitz / Ejection seat”) Published by Tianjin Ifeng Space Media Co., Tianjin (P.R.China), 2012 ISBN 978-7-214-09195-6 can be purchased at: www.ifengspace.cn/books/bookDetails/id/719.html “This book includes 79 excellent landscape installation artworks. Through showcasing high resolution images with detailed text descriptions, this book presents the world’s latest and most creative landscape installation artworks. There are plenty of sketches and other detailed drawings to help the readers better understand the ideas of the artists and the construction process. At the end of the book, there are 25 more projects that are showcased through QR code.”

A tryst with Land and Art — Cornelia Konrads

A former teacher fulfills her dream of being an artist — Germany's Traveling Installation Artist creating astounding LandArt across the globe

March 11, 2017

Cornelia Konrads. A name that is synonymous with brilliant execution of unique concepts. She is one artist whose playground is the world.

Literally. She chooses a site and uses the natural resources to create a masterpiece that is a unique collaboration of nature and human intervention of our culture. Her art seems to defy gravity itself, floating just above the ground as if elements unravelling up towards the sky. Working its way up from the ground, it crosses boundaries of conventional design into a delicate balance in space and time.

We had the chance to drag her away from her current art project, long enough to answer few of our questions.

How did it all begin for you? What was your first ever inspiration that spurred you into this path?

My parents thought, giving me a pencil and a piece of paper was the best way to keep me silent on my place, may be that's how it all started … Later, I worked as a teacher and did my artwork (painting, drawing) beside the job. I learned printing techniques on my own and started to exhibit paintings, drawings and prints. It was quite successful and one day, I received a grant, which encouraged me to quit my job and become freelancer. Then I worked for a while as assistant for an elder sculptor, who taught me a lot, about art in general and sculpture in particular. This, and another job as assistant for stage design at a small theatre introduced me to more 3-dimensional work and the question how to relate to a given space. I became increasingly intrigued by site specific installations through some Landart exhibitions I saw.

A site is not neutral, you can’t just put up whatever there, you have to respond to what is given. This is an interesting challenge for me.

So I started with small interventions on hiking tours and it became more and more important.

I can't say, what was “the first inspiration ever”, but f.e. I was always fascinated by the construction skills of animals: spider nets, termite hives, bird’s and wasp’s nests — all this is ingenious site specific work! Besides this I sometimes love to create small objects from my collection of found things, which is just pure and open play, light and without calculation.

Different people grow up dreaming about becoming different things. Did you always aspire to be an artist?

I did always aspire to be an artist, but it took me a while and some courage to understand, that this is really a feasible way for me.

Creating an artwork, for some, is a journey. What does it mean for you?

I like the image of a journey for the creation of artwork. Life is a journey and art reflects life. Literally my site specific works are always preceded — and followed - by a journey. In a certain way, this journey is a part of the work. I refer to it, and I speak about aspects of traveling: passage, movement, transformation, transience.

Do you have a favourite among all your projects?

My favourite is always the next one. Looking back I prefer those projects where nobody asked a previous idea or proposal, so I was really free to invent something unexpected - f.e. “Walkaway” in South Africa 2013, “Knotty stilts” in Bakersfield CAL 2011, or “Billabong memory“ in Australia 2005.

My favourite is always the next one!

Can you tell us a little about the technicality and the process?

All I know about technique I learned by doing and watching. Sometimes I have local helpers — this collaboration is very important and interesting for me: to learn about local skills, traditions and techniques in different countries and cultures. About the process I can say, that the most difficult part of it is to reduce and to decide when it's finished.

How much approximate time does it take for you to complete a piece?

Around 2–3 weeks.

How do you chose a particular sight/land for an installation?

My first approach to an unknown area is always: walking — without a certain destination.I follow the attraction of marks and constellations of the landscape, shapes, sounds, smells, tracks, light situations.

During those walks, I collect in my mind what lies on the edge of the path: incidents, materials, characteristics of the local architecture or vegetation — until I come to a place, where all these observations condense into an image.

I know, that I've found “my site”, when immediately three aspects come together: a clear image, I can visualise there, the technical possibilities and a senseful relation to the information I picked up on my way. This is a very precise feeling. The site is not just a "background" for me, but a texture. The goal is, that my work becomes a part of this texture.

What are you working on right now?

Right now I'm preparing my next work, it will be in Switzerland, a kind of bizarre archaeological excavation site. As always, I hope to surprise, irritate and make smile.

With the world changing so rapidly right now, all this chaos and dissention. In the words of Toni Morrisson — “This is precisely the time when artists go to work.” What are your thoughts on this?

I'd like to quote a poem of Friedrich Hölderlin: “Where there is danger, the powers of salvation grow as well.” Or Pina Bausch, a contemporary dancer, I like a lot — she said: “Dance! Otherwise we’re lost!”

AIR and I, 06: Search and Find in Rikuzentakata from 15.11. – 8.12. 2014

Cornelia Konrads (Artist)

“In short, landscape is the link between our outer and inner selves”. Bill Viola, Reasons for Knocking at an Empty House, Writings, p.253

How I encounter “my site”

As a passionate traveller and site specific sculptor, I had the chance to stay and work in various countries all over the world. Mostly (and preferably) I go on a travel without a predefined plan. Starting point after arrival is always: walking. Meandering in an unknown area, in search of the site and the form of a work, I collect what lies on the edge of my path: shapes, materials, local habits and occurrences. All my works are deeply connected with the place where i build them. I see the site not as a background, but as a texture. The goal is, that my work becomes a part of this texture.

So I’m looking for the smell and the sound of a place as well as for its stories and memories. Meanwhile I know, that those walks will bring me into a close dialogue with the place, reflecting about the landscape, architecture, vegetation and history of the surrounding area. I can rely on the fact, that sooner or later my excursions will bring me to „my site“, a spot where all thoughts and impressions condensate to an image, an idea, a project. This process of searching and finding, as i experienced it in the context of residencies, commissions and exhibitions, is of course every time exciting and special. Nevertheless it happened in my recent projects, that I sometimes feel a kind of “routine” I would like to avoid.

Is art possible here?

Walking in Rikuzentakata I realized, that before I had worked in most cases in rather protected areas, where artwork was previewed and my role as an artist clearly defined – places like parks, forests, gardens: places created to spend a leisure time, to enjoy beauty – a beauty, I often see threatened, which I refer to in my work. At first sight nothing was beautifull in Rikuzentakata – I have to say honestly, that I was shocked in the beginning: I moved through a wounded landscape full of pain, not only devastated by the first “natural” Tsunami, but also by the technical interventions to reconstruct the town. I saw giant machinery erasing and transforming parts of the landscape: mountains, forests, beaches. It appeared to me allmost like a second “artificial” Tsunami, a violent act of human revenge in the war against nature. The carefull aquaintance with nature, I’ve often sensed in japanese philosophy and traditions, I couldn’t find here.

Rikuzentakata – construction area

Encounters with people who changed me

In this first days I was often wondering about the purpose of this visit and my role as an artist: is art possible here? Does it make sense? And how could I contribute, or respond – as a stranger from far away, landing in the middle of a disaster zone, with the protection of a flightback- ticket in the pocket?

A crucial change for me came with the local people, I met. I was enchanted by the people of Rikuzentakata: their curiosity, humour and kindness, their will to share their stories and memories, their courage to start again after all the sadness they went through, their power to create something from nothing, their dignity. Very soon i didn’t feel as a stranger any more – not even as an artist! Just as a witness.

This refers to another new and exceptional aspect of this residency: The focus was not to work on my own on a singular project — but rather to work together, take part in social life, meet people!

Meeting residents of a temporary settlement

I discovered the beauty of the people, specially the old ones. I also found their marks and traces in the landscape: carefully arranged memorials, collections of lost and broken things, someone had picked up and stored thoughtfully. It suddenly brought back to my mind a Haiku of Matsuo Basho, i had read many years ago:

“Looking for the Shepherd’s Purse” became a theme for me, and the following walks I did with my camera and Matsuo Basho’s request in my mind: Look carefully! Pay attention to the small gestures and simple signs of life! They are just by the feet, easy to overlook – but once discovered they imply a lesson. Like the “Shepherd’s Purse”. And like the people I met in Rikuzentakata. The first result of my search was a photo series, showing situations where the spirit of the “Shepherd’s Purse” was present for me. The motives of this series have in common, that they are ephemeral, soon they will disappear or change. By documenting them I found a role and a task which made sense for me: to keep the memory of this places in transition; to be a kind of “creative witness”.

From the photo series “Shepherd’s Purse”

I just “followed my nose” during this walks, and it often led me to a certain area leftside/upstream Kesenriver, a spot where the traces of the Tsunami are still visible.

Tsunami traces

A borderline between the forest on top and lower vegetation on the bottom of the surrounding hills showed the height of the wave, and it sometimes seemed, as if its echoe was still hanging in the air. Yet the bulldozers didn’t enter this area, though they were coming closer every day. Faded fotos, small memorials, a carefully planted garden showed the attempts of people to cope with the disaster. This was for me the area, where the „Shepherd’s Purse“ was blooming frequently.

Remains of a small memorial garden

Picking up broken pieces and joining them to stories and memories

Circling around a small temple on top of a hill – a peacefull place, i liked very much and often took as starting point – I noticed that the ground was strewn with pieces of broken china – like shells on the beach. Some halfburied in the earth, some shining in the sun. Obviously the wave had smashed countless bowls and plates and scattered the fragments all around. It brought me to the idea to reconnect all this fragments in the way of a mosaic, and in shape of a large bowl or coulumn.

Project proposal mosaic-bowl (photomontage)

With the help of my collegues, I collected two big boxes full of broken china. Walking and collecting in this area, where the past was still so present, was surely a special experience for each of us.

Collecting pieces of broken china

Later I cleaned piece by piece and stored them in a safe place. To collect, clean and join them means for me: to keep the stories and memories — in a certain way to help create history. For the future I hope, that a permanent site will be found, once things are more settled in Rikuzentakata, and that I can return and realize a mosaic sculpture there — if possible as a collaborative work with local people.

So the Rikuzentakata Residency Program started with some doubts and questions for me – and it ended with the wish to come back and continue. I’m very gratefull, that its target is defined as “research”, and not as “completion of a work”, as it is often expected in the context of other artist residencies. This subject allowed me to face my doubts and questions, which are in fact essential for an artist, and should be faced sometimes. Now, looking back and resuming, I think that the experiences I made in Rikuzentakata are incomparably rich and fruitfull – probably because of the difficult start, and surely because I really “touched the ground” there — literally and mentally.

A basic condition of course — and the special chance and challenge of this residency — is that it is located far away from the routines and attitudes of “art-world“, and that it is focused on an open research: to explore and build bridges between people beyond the limits of language and culture, between past and future and between inner and outer landscapes.

Residency Period: November 15 – Devember 8, 2014

Cornelia Konrads

Born 1957 in Wuppertal/Germany Studies: Philosophy, Literature and Cultural Science

Freelance artist since 1998, Focus on Site-Specific Sculpture and Objects

“Once a viewer put it very well: there is a ‘moment of catastrophe’ in my work—but I also hope a moment of humour.”Cornelia Konrads

Cornelia Konrads is a German installation artist. She creates site specific installations and objects, exhibiting her permanent and temporary work in private gardens, sculpture parks, and public spaces. She also enjoys participating in a number of Land Art Projects. In the past, Cornelia has exhibited in Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, France, Belgium, Sweden, the United States, Taiwan, South Korea and Australia. Her combination of art, philosophy, and traveling gives her work a unique vibrance that fits well with the settings she chooses.

Q: What was your first introduction to art?

For my parents, giving me a pencil and a piece of paper was the best way to keep me silent in my place … maybe this was my first introduction to art.Later I frequently visited an art museum close to the town where I grew up; it’s called “Island of Hombroich”. This museum has a special concept that I liked very much: presenting modern occidental art and art from other cultures in a direct dialogue. It was fascinating for me to study the languages of form and colour, the different techniques and materials in this cross-cultural ambience. They also have a big outdoor area where I saw the first land art works and site specific installations.

Q: Tell us about yourself and your work.

I have three passions: art, philosophy and traveling.Thankfully, life has offered me a way to combine them all, but it took me a while to reach this point. First I worked as a teacher and did my artwork beside the job. I learned printing techniques on my own and worked for a while as an assistant for an elder sculptor, who taught me a lot. I started to exhibit drawings, prints and objects and became increasingly intrigued by site specific installations. It started with small interventions on hiking tours and became more and more important for me. Finally, in 1998, I had a first big outdoor exhibition and received a grant, which encouraged me to quit my job and become a free lanced artist—it was kind of a jump into the cold water, but I never regretted it.Becoming a member of an international network for site specific art helped me to exchange with other artists, and I received information about land art projects and residencies all over the world. For some I applied, and was quite successful. This ushered a new era of my life: being a traveling artist.All of my site specific works are preceded—and followed—by a travel. In a certain way the travel is a part of the work: meandering in an unknown territory in search of the site and the form for a planned installation, I collect what lies on the edge of my path—stories, shapes, materials, local habits and occurrences—until I come to a place, where these collected impressions condense into an image.I understand the site not as a background, but as a texture. The goal is that my work becomes a part of this texture—in the end, it is unclear if it has always been there or if it will change or disappear in the next second.Philosophy is the art of posing questions. Visual art is also all about posing questions, but beyond the limits of language, so I feel it’s more free.The questions I put in my work deal a lot with the perception of time and movement—often my installations appear as if a film has stopped for a moment—a moment of “frozen time”.I’m intrigued by this transient thing, called “moment” or “presence”—the intangible rupture between past and future. Consequently I try to create a moment of irritation, by adding an element to the scenery, which refuses to fit into the expected order. If something doesn’t behave as it should, within the twinkling of an eye the inner monologue gets interrupted. One “arrives here and now”, in a mysterious world, where strange things (including oneself) have a unique meeting. For this moment of irritation I like to challenge what is supposed to be “reliable”: the laws of gravity, the solidity of walls or the ground under our feet. Once a viewer put it very well: there is a “moment of catastrophe” in my work—but I also hope a moment of humour.

Q: What inspires you?

The process of searching and finding “my site” as I described above. Coincidences. Accidental arrangements.Other inspirations come from the work of Anish Kapoor, Louise Bourgeois, Tadashi Kawamata, Joseph Beuys and Banksy. And I love street art!I’m also interested in architecture and admire architects like Terunobu Fujimori or Frank Gehry—and the spiders in my studio!

Q: Much of your work is set outdoors and uses natural materials. How did this come about?

I also do indoor works… however, all of the places I work have in common that they are not neutral, not just a background. None of these places really resembles the other—you can’t just put up whatever there, you have to respond to what’s given—this is the challenge.About materials: I often use materials I find at the site, or connect my work to existing structures. But it’s not at all a dogma for me to work with “natural” materials only. Actually I use all kinds of materials that are suitable and not destructive or harmful for the place. Anyway I doubt that there is a strict limit between “natural” and “artificial”. But this is another subject…

Q: How do you go about constructing your structures? Is it not physically demanding?

Of course it is. But other people do sports, or go to a fitness studio; all those things I don’t need.In fact I like to move, to feel my physical limits, to get my hands dirty—it keeps me mobile. And if something is really too heavy, I ask for assistance…Of course for the really big works, for “settlement” for example (realised in Ireland 2010), the organiser provides assistants. In this case it was a team of Irish stone masons who did the basement. These kind of collaborations are also a challenge for me: I meet people who rarely had any contact with art, especially with a woman working in this field. But until now, encounters like these have always been fruitful in the end: I learn from their skills, and they learn that there are different ways of perception.

Q: What has one of your favorite pieces or projects been, and why?

My favourite piece is always the next one!In general I appreciate projects where nobody asks for a previous idea or proposal, so I’m really free.Under this circumstance ideas can emerge, which are unexpected and surprising for me—for example “walkaway” in South Africa 2013, “knotty stilts” in Bakersfield CAL 2011, or “billabong memory” in Australia 2005.

Q: You have made installations all over the world. What environments or countries have been the most inspiring or fulfilling for you?

Japan and Australia.

Q: What materials do you most enjoy working with?

Wood, bricks, stones, and plaster.

Q: How do you find being a woman in your field? If there have been challenges, how have you risen above them?

It’s great to be a woman in my field!Since I was a kid, I liked to construct things. People kept telling me that this was “nothing for girls”. It took me a while, but then I contradicted them: of course this has to be for me, just because I love it! And for sure I AM a girl, and I love it! So after all there is nothing wrong with me, but with the limited minds of people talking like that.A big challenge to rise above is the stereotypical idea how “female art” should look. In fact “male art” or “female art” are not interesting categories for me.I think that an artwork has the power to speak for itself, independent of the colour of skin or hair, or the gender of the author.

Q: What advice would you give to aspiring women artists?

Follow your passion, find your own way, stay curious, surprise yourself!And decide by yourself, if you want to have kids or become an artist. Both are full time jobs—not impossible, but difficult to arrange.

Q: Do you have any dream projects?

I’m open to whatever comes next, but I’m especially thrilled to walk new trails.For example, at the moment I’m in contact with the artistic director of a theatre company, who asked if I’m interested in creating a stage design. And of course I am—this could be a very exiting new task!

Q: Are you working on anything currently?

Yes, I’m testing different materials and techniques for two big installations in a botanical garden in the south of France, and playing with found materials and putting them together to create strange little beings.

— The fascinating creations of this German artist are focused on atemporality. —

The Work of Cornelia Konrads: Enough of the Curse of Time /

Cornelia Konrads (1957, Germany) is set on discovering what lies beneath the veil of Maya (illusion), where time and space are flexible, where anything that's solid loses its reality and the empire of reason crumbles.

Inspired by concepts from Land Art, Konrads takes the idea to another level, transforming space and altering the spectator’s perception of time by representing, for example, a fractured tree that seems to construct and deconstruct itself before your eyes. Some of her other works expressing transformation and suspended action include a handful of branches growing through a trunk and a collapsing house.

It seems as if you could come across the work by Konrads just as easily in a gallery as in the middle of the woods. Her reflections on the planet and its constant change appears in suspended natural events that look like crystallized moments of poetry, a profound find for anyone who’s ever imagined putting a halt to the laws of physics.

Konrads installations are just as surprising as they are profound, which is a relief for any art lover who finds many contemporary works increasingly frivolous. It would be hard to see any work by Konrads and not find yourself lost in thought or taken to some childhood fantasy where gravity doesn’t exist and flying only takes jumping in the air.

Play is an important characteristic of art in which the artist finds the pretext to go on creating and imagining strange landscapes, which is what Cornelia Konrads seems to have done, breaking past the spell of time with a magical and creative spell of her own.

Published YouTube on 8–7–2012 German artist Cornelia Konrads designs and builds art objects that look like three dimensional photo compositions set in natural surroundings. The artist often works with natural materials and her sculptures are on display in countries the world over.

Published YouTube on 23–11–2011 Inspired by the "stilts" on the CSUB Fine Arts Building, Cornelia Konrads of Germany ties the knot with CSUB as our 2011 Visiting Artist.Learn more about the program at www.csub.edu/sculptorsoncampus